Turkeys hurry
to get to the far side
of Thanksgiving.
Yield
The garden’s harvested bounty
carries a weary spirit towards spring
in the colors of dried petals and the promise of seeds.
Remains
Only a tiny ember
of fall’s glorious fireworks
remains in the landscape.
Rock Blossom
Granite grows a rose
with lichen petals and lichen leaves.
The Bird Box
In silent anticipation
the whole marsh waits for
the grace of the bluebird’s arrival.
Preparation
The forest bed is made
and awaits animal dreams
and blankets of snow
Morning Mist
the sun will unveil
today’s mystery and magic.
Awake
I dream
of golden clouds
and painted fields.
Foothold
the ancient ones
leave their footprints
above and below the land.
Ordinary Splendor
In the heart of autumn
the mighty oak, humble and true,
presents the rich variety of shades of brown.
I said
slow down a little, enjoy the scenery.
The marsh is marvelous this time of year.
But he paddled furiously on
determined to miss every enjoyment in his path.
Encounter
Coming upon the cairn in the woods
I knew we were still traveling together.
I added one stone for the two of us
and saw the face of a wise, knowing owl.
Stories
Like the grain in wood
the grain of decay in the fern frond
tells the exquisite story of its life.
Parting Days
there is still enough warmth in the sun
to want to rock on the porch a bit
Slumber
Seeds rest in husk beds
dreaming
of their spring morning.
Visual Feast
My eyes devour
tart cranberries in blueberry blue sky.
Nature’s banquet always satiates my hunger for beauty.
Connection
The bench by the pond
my meeting place with God.
Holy Leaf
in its missing parts
resides another part of its magnificence.
Fallen
There is no failure in falling.
While the descent may be hard
repose eventually softens all difficulty.
This is the grace of transformation.
Learning Tree
the elder trees encourage
the young sapling to
show its joy in color
Morning Comes
no matter
how dark
the night.
Shadow Lands
light and dark
waltz across
the hilltops
Repossession
The woods reclaim the old barn
returning her lumber to the earth.
Parting Gift
The last gift the cornfield gives
is its whispering song
on the winds of fall.
Beguiled
In the moonlight
the shadow of summer’s ghost
passes by the pumpkin.
Leaves Surrender
the first surrender is to color
the second is to be untethered by the wind
and the final surrender is to perish in form and replenish the earth
Possibilities
The still green meadow
holds out the possibility
of an Indian Summer.
Provisions
Winter can bring
whatever it must
the woodshed is full.
Quilted Sky
Tucked under a blanket of clouds
the river valley rests.
Mum
the garden’s secret keeper.
